


Sound Waves and Chain Letters

by colorfulCheshire



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drabble Collection, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Gen, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:37:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 14,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulCheshire/pseuds/colorfulCheshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're ridiculous and insensitive and I don't know why I even put up with you sometimes."</p><p>"Because I havwe a nice ass?"</p><p>"C-Cronus Ampora!"</p><p>"Yes, chief?"<br/>---<br/>A dump for my shorter cronkri prompt-fills and drabbles because I love these two dorks.  Additional tags will be in the notes at the top of each chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ovwervworked

**Author's Note:**

> **Tags:** Fluff
> 
> This drabble was written to cheer up my good friend, [Scripturience](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Scripturience), but I thought it'd look nice here, too. He's really the reason I write so much cronkri so be sure to give him some love and check out his lovely fics (seriously, they're wonderful).

He’s asleep at his desk again, and as much as you’ve told him about getting some sleep instead of working himself to death, you can’t help but to smile.  He’s passed out on crossed arms, deaf to the world wearing your stereo headphones with your symbol drawn neatly in violet (thanks to his steady hand).  He looks rather cute, though you’d be careful not to call him that as you’re sure he already has three lectures covering the topic of calling trolls “wriggler-words”.

You sigh, shaking your head, but move over to the desk and start neatly putting his things away, making sure to mark his pages in both his book and notepad, before removing your headphones.  He doesn’t stir until you start to shift him around, trying to get your arms beneath him to properly lift him.  He’s not as light as he looks, but thanks to your caste, he’s not that hard to carry either.

"Hmm, Cro?" he mumbles, white eyes peaking from grey lids carefully as you lift him from his chair.

"Shh, quiet nowv, chief. Vwe’re going to go get some real sleep on a bed.  Go back to sleep. I’ll get ya there safe."  Your voice is more quiet than you’re used to and you hope he hears you.  You wink at him and notice a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he closes his eyes again and lays against your chest.  

He’s fast asleep again by the time you make it down the hall and to his bed.


	2. Just Because

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [frostingflakes requested](http://colorfulcheshire.tumblr.com/post/85057596804/cronkri-baisemain): CronKri, Baisemain
> 
> Baisemain - A kiss on the hand
> 
>  **Tags:** Fluff

You’re watching the way his fingers move across taught strings, your hands resting carefully out of his way as he shows you the simple cord again, or at least he says it’s simple, but you’ve yet to have any luck on your own.

You attribute this, not only to your lack of skill and practice, but to your short, rounded fingers. While you’ve noticed that they can make a nice compact fist, at least on Karkat – you’re not sure that they serve much of a purpose for you other than practical uses.

You’ve already forgotten the first few strokes of his fingers, but he’s grabbing your hands gently and placing them on his guitar, his breath cool and relaxing against your neck as he watches from over your shoulder. He’s carding off his pick into your right hand and moving your fingers on the other, his touch gentle but firm against the back of your hand as you try to strum again.

You have to admit that it sounds better than the last time, but the position feels entirely unnatural to your hands and you have no idea how he makes this look so easy, how he makes it sound so beautiful. You try again a few times, growing a bit frustrated with your slow, aching progress.

“Hey, chief, it’s okay. You’vwe got this,” he murmurs against your neck and you repress the urge to shiver. “Hold on, here.”   You feel his smile as he lifts your strumming hand up and to your shoulder where he places a soft kiss across your fingers.

“W-what was that for?” you ask, feeling a smile tugging at your cheeks as he drops your hands back to the guitar.

“For luck,” he chuckles, and you can hear the wide grin in his voice.

“O-oh.” You’re not quite sure how to respond to that and merely shift your attention back to your hands on the instrument, a warmth fluttering in your chest as he smooths his fingers over the back of your hand.

You turn your hand over and catch his palm in yours to pull them back up to your face and return the favor, pressing your lips softly over his fingers, his knuckles, and then the back of his hand, all with gentle reverence that you feel is suitable for such a task.

He inhales sharply against your shoulder, and as you drop your hands back to the instrument, he asks, “Vwhat vwas that for?”

“Just because,” you smile, leaning back into his cool embrace before trying to strum again.


	3. Sail With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tags:** Fluff, Developing relationship

You’re sitting on the new dock in the southern district, bare feet hanging over the edge and skimming the top of cool salt water. You still have no idea whose memory this place has been born from, nor why it’s only recently manifested, but you can’t exactly complain.

You never really had the chance to see the beach on Beforus. While the seadwellers weren’t as dangerous as their Alternian counterparts, they still liked to cause mischief, and there were still plenty of dangerous creatures that you preferred to avoid. You had always wanted to go, however. Your lusus would often come back from his hunts when you were tiny, brining little treasures and trinkets covered in sand, and you would store them away in a little wooden box beneath your bed.

You still had that box when you died, tucked safely away in the back of your sylladex. You had hoped that with your adventure with the game that you would get to see the beach, but your world had been destroyed before you could even venture out of your lawnring toward the ocean. Even Meenah and Cronus’s lands had lacked anything resembling a beach, Meenah’s being entirely underwater and Cronus’ being a strange, mountainous land filled with terrifying winged creatures. That must have been rough for someone born to the water.

You had laid back for a while, your shoes placed safely above your head and out of the way. Now, with eyes closed against the strange, oddly soothing dream-moon, you notice that the roaring of the waves is steadily growing in volume, wetting the bottom of your leggings as they grow taller. You pull your legs back up to the dock and open your eyes as you sit up.

To your surprise, a medium-sized boat is nearing, sails fluttering in the wind as it creaks closer to the dock. You wonder how you didn’t notice the sound before, but you stand and back away some from end of the dock, one hand over your eyes to try and make out the figure at the helm of the vessel.

“Ahoy, chief! You here for a ride?”

You stand there in shock as this isn’t at all what you were expecting when you snuck out of your hive to relax on the water. Still, you can’t help but to smile as the boat stops near the docks, Cronus disappearing over the edge, likely tending to the ship. When he appears again, he’s lowering a long wooden ramp to the dock with a grin, the large, violet feather on his silly hat blowing in the wind.

“Wvell? Howv ‘bout it, Kanni?”

You resist the urge to scold him for the nickname as you bend down to put on your shoes. He’s still looking at you expectantly when you stand, but he seems a bit surprised when you start up the ramp.

“Of course, Captain,” you say, a sly grin tugging at your lips as you board the ship.


	4. Sink into the Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [These fishes in the sea, they're staring at me.]
> 
> A cold touch and a wet world full of wonder you've only ever wished for, and you wish you could stay here forever, trapped between this cool embrace and a sea of colors you could never find elsewhere.
> 
> \---
> 
> A drabble about a dream under the sea and a dance in the deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [Ch6 - Fever](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1595369/chapters/3554438) of [Scripturience](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Scripturience/pseuds/Scripturience)'s cronkri drabble dump, [Triggered in Violet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1595369/chapters/3393080).
> 
> **Tags:** Literal Wet Dream (*snortlaugh*), Cold Dream

You’re enveloped in a cool embrace, floating on the surface of the ocean with the moon’s pink light shining through your eyelids as the waves of the icy sea curl around your tired limbs. The chilly touch feels heavenly against your heated skin and you just want to sink into the depths where the waters can kiss your face cold. It would be refreshing, you suppose, to have all of your heat stolen from your body and hidden away somewhere deep below, perhaps in a cave hidden by swaying plants and dangerous creatures with golden eyes.

A shadow looms over you and you crack an eye to find that you’re not alone, a silhouette with familiar horns coming to keep you company in the tinted moonlight. Violet eyes gleam down at you from the shadows of their face, and you half-wonder how they’ve managed to swim so close to you without you noticing. You smile up at your matesprit and he does the same before ducking his head underwater beside you, disappearing from your site. You’re only mildly confused, but when you feel an arm around your waist, you laugh and let him pull you under.

It’s beautiful under the sea, just as you had imagined since you were a wriggler, treasure box of seashells in hand as your custodian told you about the beauty of the beach and sea. The icy arm around your waist holds you close and you cling to the troll beside you as you try to take it all in. The surface above you shimmers with the rose-tinted moonlight, casting a glimmering light over the fish and plants far beneath you, the waters growing darker the further out you try to look. You think you might see the shadow of a city somewhere out there, but it could be a trick of the eye for all you know. You’re sure it’s beautiful either way.

The arm around your waist is holding you close, telling you that you’re safe and secure, even as the two of you dive further, deep enough for towering plants to tickle your skin while the troll at your side navigates the shadowy maze of leaves and colorful sea life. There’s a rainbow of colors flitting around your vision, brilliant even in the dark of the night, and you can’t help but to keep one arm outstretched towards every new site as you’re pulled along at a comfortable pace.

It feels like it’s been sweeps when you finally look back up to your matesprit and are surprised to find that he meets your gaze, sharp teeth glinting white where the light catches them as wide eyes scan your face with a strange curiosity you’ve only noticed a few times before. It makes your insides skitter around in every inch of you, the same way a shimmering school of fish does when the two of you swim by, and you can’t help but to cling to him in your sudden shyness.

He laughs and the two of you come to a slow stop along the ocean floor, your feet gently touching the soft sand as Cronus takes your hands, smiling down at you with bright eyes. He looks beautiful, otherworldly in his own domain, his hair floating gently around his head and swaying languidly with his movements. You wonder if yours is doing the same, but from the way he’s grinning at you, it’s probably not as terrible a mess as you might think.

You’ve never danced before, and certainly not underwater, but as he takes your hand and spins you around, you wonder if it feels just as nice to feel the air through your hair as it does to feel the cool sea. It seems natural to float and spin like this, guided by his hand as he pulls you close and twirls you back out and around himself again. He catches you, your bodies moving slow and graceful like the liquid around you, and he kisses your breath away as he dips you low to the sand.

You eye a small crab skittering across a rock nearby and smile as Cronus pulls you back up, one hand on your waist and the other on your own as the two of you sway to whatever song he’s humming out. You’re sure his voice sounds different in these depths, but there’s no possible way for you to describe it, so you leave it at that and enjoy it, like you always do when you can get him to relax and sing softer melodies, his voice moving through you like unseen currents.

* * *

 When you wake, you feel almost out of place in the solidity of your bed, the sheets heavy atop your frame and feeling foreign against your damp skin. You only register reality when you register the cool weight against one side, a comforting arm wrapped around your waist almost protectively. You recall your cold (still lingering in your body from the feel of your head) and asking the cool-blooded troll to lie with you for some relief from the heat that had knocked you off your feet

More than that, however, you recall the feel of the sea, however fake it might have been, and dancing alongside the plants with the troll at your side. You smile, staring at the glass of water on the nightstand, and wonder if, when you’re feeling better, you can see if that dream could be a reality, or at least as real as anything can be when you’re reality is a dream itself.


	5. Coffee-shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [frostingflakes](http://frostingflakes.tumblr.com/) requested: cronkri humanstuck coffee-shop AU

“Hey, lemme buy you a coffee, chief.”

“I’m assistant manager of a coffee shop, _this_ very shop if your memory is fading,” Kankri chides, a smile tugging at his lips anyways, directed at the man sitting across from him. “If this is your best attempts at wooing me, Cronus, then perhaps my fragile heart might actually survive this dating ordeal. And here I was, worried that you’d sweep me off my feet.”

He’s still smiling, an affectionate quirk in his lips that faintly defines a lone dimple on russet cheeks, and Cronus can’t help but to feel like it’s his own heart they should be worrying over. Without even trying, Kankri seems to be doing all of the wooing in their two short weeks of dating, and all Cronus can think about is whether or not those tanned lips taste like the coffee Kankri is always drinking.

“Aww come on, it’s the thought that counts right?” he responds after a long beat, effortlessly slipping into feigned nonchalance despite the upper hand Kankri holds with his tempting smile. “It’d be good for me to know what you like anyways, right? That or let me take you out to eat after work?”

“You _don’t_ need to worry about spending so much on me,” he sighs, shaking his head in mild disbelief. “Besides, I’d rather not go out to eat looking like, well this plus the next four hours of my shift.”

“Then it’s settled, I’ll get you coffee now and we can go out tomorrow for lunch since you’re off.”

Kankri gawks at Cronus’ unabashed grin, looking mildly affronted. Planting his open palm on the table-top, he opens his mouth to chide him for such assumptions when a screech and string of swears draws both their and the entire café’s attentions to the cash register.

“Fifty-three one for _this_ cup of blasphemy?! A motherfucker didn’t even order this shit! He don’t even _like_ this shit!”

“Sir, please calm down. I assure you that our drinks are made with the highest quality ingredients.”

“It’s not the motherfucking _quality_ that’s all up and causing a problem!”

“Sir, please-“

Kankri sighs heavily and sits up quickly from his chair, offering Cronus an apologetic glance before going to deal with the situation and calm the fuming customer. Cronus offers him a two-finger salute and watches from the corner of his eyes as he approaches the cash register and begins to speak in that calm, but authoritative tone of his. The yelling almost immediately dies down and Cronus smiles; he knows first-hand that it’s hard not to listen to Kankri when he decides to take charge.

“Sorry sir,” he catches, “an error on our part for such a ridiculous price. The total is five thirty-one but this one’s on us if you don’t mind while we prepare the correct drink for yourself . . . yes yes, thank you. Our other barista is already preparing your order, thank you very much for your business.”

It takes a few more minutes as another drink is prepared for the fuming young man, a look of confusion and hurt barely visible beneath his wild hair and what appears to be left-over smudges of face paint, but by the time he gets his drinks, he’s smiling and offering thanks to Kankri as he leaves. The assistant manager waves him off, offers a stern glare at the blind barista that she can’t see (despite how she smiles coyly as if she does), and makes his way back over to his waiting not-boyfriend (not yet, at least).

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes, slumping into the chair and resting his face in his hands, “TZ handed the poor guy an extra large orange spice latte instead of a mint chocolate mocha and then apparently rang it up as fifty dollars instead of five by mistake – she doesn’t normally makes mistakes, though. Odd thing is, he seemed more upset about the wrong drink order than the price.” He shrugs, slumping further onto the table after dealing with that debacle.

Cronus can’t help but to chuckle as he stands from his seat. “So what did you want me to order you, chief?”

“Hmm?” The tired man looks up from his spot on the table, taking a moment to register his offer. “Oh, a medium caramel latte with cinnamon and a blueberry scone.”

Cronus is surprised by his answer, expecting him to further argue that he shouldn’t be buying him things, and writes it off as the distraction caused by the earlier commotion as he places his order.


	6. White-Eyed Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [frostingflakes requested](http://colorfulcheshire.tumblr.com/post/88315022764/apodyopis-gymnophoria-cronkri): Apodyopis, Gymnophoria CronKri
> 
> Apodyopis - The act of mentally undressing someone.  
> Gymnophoria - The sensation that someone is mentally undressing you.
> 
>  **Tags:** Sexual Themes

He reaches up to get to the top of the entertainment center, the line of his body stretched elegantly from where he stands on tiptoe to the point that his hand disappears over the top of freshly-polished wood and out of Kankri’s line of site. This of course, is of little concern to the troll on the couch, as the movement lifts Cronus’ white tshirt with his raised arms, revealing an expanse of toned muscles visible beneath ashen skin.

White eyes follow the defined line of the seadweller’s waist to the hem of his jeans where a black waistband peaks out from beneath, and Kankri imagines slipping his thumbs beneath both layers of fabric and following the dip in his hips to tease the cool skin there. He hasn’t had a chance to try it yet, and he wonders how Cronus would react. He can see him shivering from the touch, head tilting up to offer him his jaw with a pleased smile.

Cronus stretches further to reach the farthest patch of dust, and Kankri swallows thickly as his shirt raises higher and exposes more skin. He can’t help but to visualize sliding his hands up his sides and under his shirt, pulling the fabric up over toned arms and revealing a lithe frame that he’s only once had the pleasure of studying closely before. He can’t rid the image from his mind, and all he can think about at the moment is how much he wants to run his hands over Cronus’ bare chest and feel the beat of his heart underneath his palms.

He would lean in to kiss him, or at least he would like, and growl against his lips to encourage him as he slips his jeans off his hips and down smooth legs. The thought of Cronus’ bare torso pressing against him- Kankri stopped, worrying a raw spot in his lips with his fangs as he absently flipped the unread page of his book. He was still peering over the top of the book, blank eyes fixated on the muscles moving at Cronus’ exposed side.

“Like vwhat you see, chief?” The voice startles Kankri, his head snapping up to Cronus’ grin and raised eyebrow. He hadn’t noticed when the other finished his dusting and turned to get down from the chair, but from the look Cronus is giving him, he knows that he’s been caught staring, not that he plans on admitting it.

“What on Beforus are you talking about, Cronus?”

Cronus chuckles in response and Kankri knows he’s not falling for his ruse; he’s still not going to drop it, though, if he can save any face. There’s no way Kankri Vantas is going to admit to ogling his matesprit of only two perigees like some flushed-struck damsel in one of his novels.

“Awwv, you can’t deny it, Kanni. Vwith a stare like that, you really oughta come vwith a vwarning label: Caution – may make you hot under the collar and vweak in the knees, seek physical therapy from your matesprit immediately.”

He hops down from his chair with a suggestive grin and Kankri can feel where his face heats up beneath his gaze. With a smirk, he turns to pick up the chair, and Kankri’s positive that the not-so-subtle hip roll was on purpose, not that he can keep from looking anyways. When Cronus passes him with chair in hand, he winks at the seated troll and Kankri knows he’s been caught a second time. He wonders when it got so hot in Cronus’ loungeblock, but he’s not about to pull off his sweater if Cronus is going to keep smirking at him like that.

“Howv’s the book coming, babe?” There’s suddenly two cool hands on his shoulder and Kankri jumps in his seat, tilting his head back to glare up at the troll standing behind the couch.

“Just _fine_ , thank you very much,” he responds calmly, though restraint is obvious in his tone.

“So I figure you don’t vwanna join me in the shovwer, then?” Fingers working over stiff shoulders, he raises his eyebrows questioningly and grins mischievously down at Kankri, focusing most of his attention on the flush growing across the redblood’s nose.

“I’m fine right here,” he responds quickly, lifting the book in his hands to emphasize his point. He isn’t going to admit how appealing the idea sounds, and while he would very much like to join him, another part of him knows that all self-control would break down in such close quarters to a very nude and very hot Cronus.

“Your loss, chief.” Cronus shrugs nonchalantly, his hands sliding off Kankri’s shoulders a bit too slowly to be unintentional before he makes his way down the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Kankri catches him pulling his shirt off before he’s even made it to the ablutionblock and he bites his lip to keep from turning to get a better look.

Kankri tries returning his focus back to his book, attempting to ignore the heat that’s settled in his gut, but Cronus has left the door cracked, and as the sound of running water filters down the hallway, a melodic voice joins it with a familiar tune. Images of Cronus standing beneath the water filter though his mind, but it takes Kankri another five minutes of debating before he stands up and follows the humming down the hallway.

So focused on Cronus’ voice, the troll doesn’t even notice when the water shuts off, his hand hovering over the doorknob as two battling wills struggle over whether to turn back or to just open the door. As he stands there deliberating, the door is swung open and Cronus stands there mid-step, a look of surprise lighting up his face.

“Came to join me after all, then?” he grins suggestively, regaining his composure quickly to lean against the door frame, one hand loosely holding the towel around his waist.

Kankri tries to think of a way to explain himself and escape this awkward situation he’s put himself in, but his thinkpan sputters to a stop when presented with his mostly naked matesprit leaning towards him, hair damp and hanging partially over his face and skin flushed a faint violet from the hot shower.

Before he’s aware of what he’s doing, Kankri’s pulling him close by his shoulders, reaching up to kiss his lips with the intent he’s been trying to hide. Cronus can’t help but to be a bit surprised, but he responds quickly, returning the kiss with a pleased a hum as Kankri’s hands slide down to slip beneath his damp towel.


	7. Drive-In Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon requested: 1950's AU cronkri
> 
> **Tags:** Rule!63 cronkri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I'm no history major, the 1950's in the US was a [terrible time](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lavender_scare) to be openly or suspected of being gay. I apologize for the gender-swap, but I feel that it would have been easier for two girls to hide their relationship from society and their families than two boys.
> 
> Also, the movie they are watching is the old "The War of Worlds."

“You know you can hold onto me if you’re scared, babe.”

“Oh please,” Kankri scoffs, pulling away from her girlfriend to offer a brief unamused stare before returning her attention back to the projected film. Cronus merely shakes her head at how blunt the red-head can be at times, but also returns her attention back to the movie, looking a little less comfortable without her arm around the other girl’s shoulders.

“Besides,” Kankri continues, hazel eyes following the shaky movements of the cobra-like robot on the screen, “if there were aliens with the technology to invade Earth and the desire to use our resources, they would have done so when the human race was less developed – before we created weapons of mass destruction and started squandering our resources on bloody wars.” Three men on screen are vaporized by the cobra-robot-probe and she flinches in distaste before finally leaning back against Cronus’ side. It’s chilly out anyways, she tells herself, so it’s nice to be against something warm.

“Haha, guess you’re right,” Cronus laughs, brushing an ebony curl behind her ear and pulling Kankri closer. “For a moment I was wonderin’ if I had enough on hand to pack up and drive me n’ you to Canada where it’s too cold for them to bother huntin’ down the few humans there. We’d have to grab Porrim for her sweater-skills, too, of course.”

Kankri rolls her eyes and scoffs, but says nothing as she leans further against Cronus’ soft chest, eyes closing against the film briefly as she imagines running away to the north with her ridiculous girlfriend. They certainly had the money, at least on the Ampora side, and maybe Canada didn’t care as much as the hypocritical US of A about two girls kissing. It’s cold there, but then again, Kankri’s always been the kind to enjoy snuggling up beneath a ton of blankets with a cup of coffee and a good book in hand. Now that she was thinking about it, even if it were because aliens were invading, running away wouldn’t be _so_ bad.

“That sounds kind of nice, actually,” she admits quietly, her hand finding Cronus’ to weave their fingers together.

As much as Kankri disliked most films, including these inaccurate adaptations of classic books, Cronus always had a way of making these drive-in movies something to look forward to.


	8. Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon requested: Tarantism cronkri
> 
>  **Tarantism** \- The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing.
> 
>  **Tags:** humanstuck, hurt/comfort
> 
> [Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rn9UNSWqN7I) referenced.

You thought that perhaps listening to Cronus playing would lighten your mood, take your mind away from yourself just long enough to put up your mental barricade again. So you had crept silently to the glass doors to the balcony where Cronus, his back to your apartment, sat playing his guitar. You noticed him humming along, once you were close enough to sit against the wall out of his sight, and you hoped he planned on playing for a while longer while you tried to will your thoughts away with the rise and fall of his voice.

You’re not sure how long you sat there, head tilted back against the wall and eyes shut tight against your pristine living space (cleaning had been your first hopeful-remedy to clear your mind), but it’s long enough for you to know your mood won’t be lifted by your boyfriend’s soft songs. You stay seated, however, curled against the wall with your eyes shut. It’s not like you have any other options anyways.

But then, that’s why you’re here in the first place, isn’t it – you’re out of options. All your life you’ve wanted to get up and get out of this state, hell, out of this country, and _see_ places, to _learn_ about the world, but here you are - not even an hour from home and three years into a degree you’re not sure if you can do much with anyways, not that you have any clue what else you could have studied. You’re just Kankri – some scrawny guy with good grades, no real talent to speak of, and a knack for running people off. Even your younger brother has managed to escape to the other side of the country on a music scholarship and a few loans and somehow he’s managing just fine. You’re proud of him, yes, but you can’t help but to feel inadequate in comparison.

Karkat . . . You miss him. You miss him so much it hurts sometimes. He’s grown up, and you’re sure part of him is annoyed with what you’ve turned out to be, but before he left this year he would still visit you and hang out, still hug you when he left and tell you to take care of yourself, so you know he still cared.   You miss Friday nights with him, watching movies and cooking dinner together while talking about life. Cronus had taken you out on a date the first Friday after Karkat left, and after that, you tried not to let the quiet weekends bother you. Karkat was only a phone call away. You hadn’t lost him – not really. Not like-

You swallow thickly, rocking on your heels as you suddenly recognize the chords filtering through the closed doors. You’ve heard Cronus play it once before as you were passing through the living room, but you were on your way to class and only had the time to allow the smallest pangs of nostalgia. It slipped from your mind almost the instant your instructor started the lesson in the classroom, and you hadn’t heard him play it again, thankfully.

Your mother used to sing this to you, voice soft and understanding, whenever you would have a bad day, back when you were young enough that your typical bad day consisted of a scraped elbow or some goading remark from a classmate. She’d lift you up by your hands and stand you up on her toes and the two of you would dance as she sang along to the cassette.

You can remember how your tiny hands had fit in hers, holding on tightly to her fingers as the two of you danced around the living room, her smile as warm as the sun filtering in through the thin curtains. You can’t help but to wonder what your hands would look like against hers now after fifteen years of growing up. You wish you could dance with her again, though she’d probably be the one standing on your toes now.

After she had died, Karkat had cried off and on for days. He woke you one night with muffled sobs, the poor four-year-old calling out for his mother into his pillow. You had slipped out of your bed and turned on your radio before taking his smaller hands in your own and pulling him out of bed to dance on your toes like your mother had done for you so many times before. He had initially cried louder, clinging to you tightly, but eventually quieted enough to go back to sleep with you in your bed as the two of you tried not to think about how much you missed her.

You can’t remember the last time Karkat danced with you like that and you feel like you took it for granted. You wonder, if he was here and if you asked, would he dance with you again.

“You okay, babe?”

You jump from your melancholic reverie, head snapping to where your boyfriend is standing in the doorway, his brows drawn in concern as he looks down to your seat against the wall. You can feel warm tears rolling down your cheeks and you wipe at them quickly, though you know their damage is already done. You didn’t want to let on that you were in a bad mood; you had even planned to go to bed early if you couldn’t cheer up before he came inside, but it’s too late now. You really don’t feel like talking about this, or even to feel him worrying over you if you make him drop it. You’re about to wave it off when a stray thought filters in through the heavy clouds in your mind, and you speak before you have a chance to reconsider.

“Dance with me?”

He blinks in surprise and closes the door behind him, setting his guitar against it before he crouches down to respond. “Come again, chief?”

“My mother . . . she used to dance with me to the song you were just singing,” you explain quietly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You could have just waved it off, you know, but after voicing your small request, you can’t help but to hope that he’ll grant it.

“So you want me to dance with you?” You can’t look him in the eyes as you nod in response. There’s movement to your side as he stands, and you’re a bit startled when he leans down to take your hands in his and pull you up.

You feel a bit silly now that you’re standing in the living room beside him as he shoves the coffee table closer to the sofa and you’re thinking about telling him not to worry about it and escaping to the safety of your bedroom. You open your mouth to say so, but he plugs his iPod into the speaker and as the music begins to play, you’re taken back to a time when you didn’t have to worry about everything so much, when you had someone there to hug you close and sing your troubles away.

You feel your throat growing tight, but you wrap your arms over his shoulders and hide your face against his neck before you let him see you cry again. He smiles against you as he wraps both arms around your waist and sways with you to the music. He’s humming softly to the words and you can’t help but to hear your mother singing along from so many years ago.

Tears are still rolling down your cheeks as you dance with Cronus, but you can’t help but to feel better as he leads you in a gentle sway.


	9. Dinner and a Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> frostingflakes requested: CronKri, "Can I skip dinner and go right for dessert?"
> 
>  **Tags:** Sexual Themes

“Vwhat’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Kankri is hardly fazed by the voice in his ear or by the cool hands sliding down his sides to grip his hips. He leans back into the touch, smiling to himself as he continues to season the meat patties on the cooking sheet.

“I have to say, Cronus,” he says softly, focusing on his work “for how often you cook, I’m a bit surprised that you can’t identify such a simple recipe. Perhaps if you actually _looked_ instead of hiding your face in my hair, you wouldn’t have to ask me?”

Cronus smiles against his neck and further nuzzles into warm skin while leaning himself flush against Kankri’s back, his smile pulling into a grin when Kankri shivers under his touch. “Awwv, babe, can’t help but get a bit distracted vwith something so svweet right in front of me. You don’t mind if I havwe a bite before dinner, do ya?”

His breath hitches for a moment, but he steadies himself with a reserved hum, capping the seasoning bottles before ducking away from his matesprit to move to the sink. Cronus makes a disappointed noise, but Kankri has managed to draw a polite smile once his hands are under the warm spray of the faucet, turning to the other troll with a feigned indifference.

“If you wanted a desert, Cronus, you should have said so earlier and I’d have a cake started, but it’s far too late for that now. Perhaps tomorrow?” Regardless, he’s smiling as he slides past the speechless troll, leaning up to leave a small kiss on his jaw before grabbing the cooking sheet with a pot holder and shuffling to the oven.

Cronus is still quiet, wondering whether Kankri’s aversion is a signal to drop the topic or to find another angle, but then Kankri has the tray in the oven and the timer set and is suddenly in front of him, white eyes looking up from beneath his bangs. He’s got an amused smile on his lips that spells trouble for the Ampora.

“I thought you said desert vwas for tomorrowv?” Cronus’ confusion has quickly turned into interest and he pulls Kankri closer to him, leaning down to nip his jaw.

“I never said anything about some entertainment while we wait, now did I?”


	10. Come Down, Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tags:** humanstuck
> 
> [ _But everything looks perfect from far away. "Come down now." But we'll stay._ ]

He’s standing behind you, humming an old tune that you think you might recognize from an oldie’s station in passing, but he won’t come any closer. He had mentioned to you, attempting to sound nonchalant, that you shouldn’t sit there either, that it was dangerous, but his voice has been small and unsure ever since you busted open the rusted lock and shoved the heavy fire-door open to the roof. You have a good idea why, but it still unsettles you to see his inflated ego shrivel into a cowering animal. Your stomach lurches as you look over the edge of the roof where your legs sway over an abandoned ally eight stories below.

“Haven’t heard that one yet,” you mutter, unable to tear your eyes away from the ground below. You wonder what it must have looked like half a century ago. Was it still just as dingy and danger-ridden? Or did the neighboring building even exist then? Perhaps it was the edge of a vacant lot? You’d ask Cronus, but you can feel how he wants to edge away and sink back to the safety of indoors. He doesn’t leave, though, but he doesn’t answer you either, still humming to himself, and you wonder if he even heard you.

“You can go inside, you know,” you say a bit more loudly, turning to look at him over your shoulder but grounding your hands against the ledge. You’ve never been fond of heights, but you would feel better if you could see ahead rather than turn away from the danger. It’s only a mild discomfort, however. Besides, the cool April air feels rather nice up here.

He looks up at you then, startled out of his own thoughts, and tries to put on his normal grin, the grin that says “I’m Cronus Ampora and I can take on the world.” Right now, he doesn’t give off that impression at all and you have to steel yourself against the urge to get up and hug him. That wouldn’t work, of course; it never does and just leaves you both feeling worse.

“Nah Kanni, not like anything will happen to me, right? Gotta make sure you make it in alright, too.” He looks away as he speaks to you, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s avoiding the issue or because you both know full well that he wouldn’t be able to catch you.

Instead of pointing this out, however, you merely answer with a nod and a quite, “If it makes you feel any better.” Really, you know that going inside would make him feel better, being behind the heavy fire-door and away from the open sky. You two could go to your room and watch a movie until your father calls you down for dinner. He’d be mad if he knew you’d been up here, but your curiosity would have driven you up here sooner or later. You can’t bring yourself to leave just yet.

“Cronus?” you ask after a long minute of silence passes where you watch the horizon darken along with the setting sun behind you.

“Yeah, chief?” He’s quiet, voice barely louder than the breeze between the buildings, but he’s moved closer now to sit close to your side, legs crossed and still a good few inches away from the ledge.

“It was here, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is quiet, full of regret. “But accidents happen, right?” He doesn’t sound like he accepts that answer much himself, but he doesn’t really have a choice.

He watches as your fingers trace the faded cross on the white stone of the ledge, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth as he refuses to look to the drop below. He lifts a hand from his lap towards your own, his fingers passing through yours with a faint chill. You pull your hand away, watching in solemn silence as he traces the last standing reminder of the short life of Cronus Ampora.


	11. Waiting for the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tags:** humanstuck

Shouldn’t he be here by now? Yeah, traffic is hell right now, but it shouldn’t be that much of a problem; you’re pretty sure he should have been here a long time ago. You can’t help but to worry a little for him, despite your own unease in the chilly night air.

The lamppost above you is out, the bulb shattered where some drunken idiot had run into the pole below, and the darkness surrounding you keeps you on the edge of the bench (not that you could comfortably sit back against the cold metal anyway). The bench is against the wall of the nearby building, but you still catch yourself looking all around you periodically, wary of what sort of faces you might see in the dark. You’re not really in a place that you’d like to be. Where is he?

You try to calm your mind by watching the slow crawl of traffic through the streets, but you can’t help but to keep wondering how nice and cozy it is inside those cars instead of bone-cold like it is out here in the shadow of this old building. You’re not sure how long you sit and stare, but it’s not easing your nerves in the least. So when a crimson light suddenly washes down the darkened streets, painting everything a twisted shade of red, you nearly jump up before grabbing the edge of the bench and sinking back as far as you can to make yourself as small as possible.

The eerie light flashes in a rhythmic pattern before a shrill siren joins it and you notice that the cars are attempting to pull to the curb, rather slowly with how close each one is to one another. You turn towards the source of the light and can’t help but to let out a nervous laugh over your own behavior. It’s just an ambulance, no big deal. Strange, it doesn’t feel like no big deal.

“Cronus,” says a voice at your side, and this time you _do_ jump out of your seat, turning with a startled squeak that you would never admit to. You recognize a mess of hair and despite the strange light from the ambulance down the street, you can see the vibrant red of a familiar sweater.

“Kankri, holy fuck, babe, am I glad to see you.” You can’t help yourself and you pull him into a tight hug, arms wrapped possessively over his shoulders as you nuzzle his hair and take in his scent. He’s not as warm as you would have liked, but neither are you, and it’s not like it’s something to complain about. You relax when his arms slide around your waist to rest across your back, feeling a little safer now that you aren’t so alone.

“I missed you, too, Cronus,” he says softly and you want to cry. You’ve missed him so much. “I can’t say that I’m happy to see you like this,” he admits, rubbing your back, “but I’ve missed you so it’s kind of nice.” You feel a bit guilty over his statement, but it does little to dampen your relief.

“What took ya so long, babe?” you ask lightheartedly as you pull away, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. You have no idea how he feels about everything that happened, so a change in topic wouldn’t hurt; you two can discuss the past another time, or at least you hope you can.

“I couldn’t exactly call a cab, now could I?” He rolls his eyes, but you can see the small outline of a smile at the corner of his lips and you can’t help but to smile in return.

“Well if I had known that, I coulda walked myself. Been freezing my ass off out here, ya know.” You tilt your head toward the bench, which looks even more bleak in the crimson light as the ambulance crawls through the mass of cars. A block down in the opposite direction, police sirens go off and you can see the glow of their blue lights flashing around the corner.

“You don’t know the way though,” he answers softly, looking up at you with wide eyes. You catch the look of pity, but say nothing as he pulls away to take your hand. “I think it’s time we get going, dear. Is that alright?”

You bite your lip (not a good idea when it’s so cold out), but you squeeze his hand and nod, following when he smiles and starts walking. He’s right, you don’t know the way, and you have little idea about where he’s leading you, but you once told yourself that you’d follow him to the end of time, no matter where he took you, so you take a deep breath and let that thought and the weight of Kankri’s hand comfort you.

You look back as the two of you turn the corner. The ambulance has finally made it to the busted streetlight and the wreck of a car beneath it. It’s hard to make out details in the flashing crimson light, but you can see the glint of your watch and ring as the paramedics pull your body from the wreckage of your car, looking grim in the winter night as they work, a little too late. Kankri tugs your hand to pull you forward, away from the scene, and you comply, feeling a little better when he entwines your arms together and starts humming one of his favorites, the one you would always sing to him in the hospital a few years ago. You catch him smile when you start to hum along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell, I quite enjoy ghostfics uwu


	12. #TW: Migraines

You’re nearly asleep again when a sudden itch in your throat draws forth a shallow cough, sending a sharp pain through your temple despite the fact that you hardly moved at all.  You groan once, but the sound, even muffled into your pillow, makes your head throb.  You resist the urge to make another noise of disapproval.

Unfortunately, you’re more awake now, and far too aware of how hot it is buried beneath your covers.  You debate for a moment whether you would rather be suffocated or deal with more pain, but you decide that you really don’t want to figure out what it feels like to suffocate when you’re already dead, especially with what would be a killer migraine nestled firmly between your horns.  With your luck, it would probably make it worse.

With a silent sigh, you find the edges of your blanket and pull it slowly from your face, refusing to open your eyes as you lay there and revel in the cool air against your damp, overheated skin.  It feels good even for your migraine, and after a moment, you realize that the smell of soup is wafting through the nutritionblock.

Curious, and entirely sick of doing nothing, you risk a peek, finding that the block is actually blessedly dark.  Upon further inspection, it seems Cronus has thrown some spare blankets over the curtain rods to block out the afternoon light.  You smile despite the throbbing in your skull, and with slow, careful movements, you remove the rest of your blanket shield from your body to savor the cool air.

The door is cracked, and from what you can tell, only the nutritionblock’s light is on, the rest of the hive unlit like your respiteblock.  It’s almost entirely silent, save for the occasional clank of metal, and if you felt like listening really close (ow, ok let’s not do that), you would hear the faint musical humming of your matesprit as he works.

You close your eyes again, rolling over onto your side and off of your pillow, hoping that maybe a different position will relieve some of the pressure in your head.  It helps a little, you find, to curl into yourself on the mattress, hiding your face in the collar of your matesprit’s shirt to focus on a comforting scent, rather than on how hungry the smells from the nutritionblock are making you. 

It seems to work, as you’re nearly asleep when you hear a faint voice from the doorway.

“Babe? You avwake?”  He sounds concerned, and you frown for a moment, but immediately stop that because using that many facial muscles is  _not_  a good idea right now.

You peek out from the collar of the shirt, unwrapping your arms from around your knees so that you can see him.  You wave to him silently, deciding against speaking, but you’re relieved to see that he smiles before entering the block further with a bowl and glass in hand.

“I brought you some soup if you’re hungry.”  He’s smiling gently, and you want to tell him thank you, but you can only nod and reach out for him weakly.

He seems to pick up on the hint and sets the soup down on the side-table before helping you up, propping your pillows up behind you before leaning you back gently.  He kisses your hair softly, and you find that a small smile doesn’t cause you any pain, which you think means you’re doing better. 

He’s sitting carefully at your side with the bowl in hand, blowing gently at a spoonful before testing it, when you risk a quiet, “Thank you, Cronus.”  It hurts a little to say, but you think it’s worth it.


	13. No Space Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt:** Things you said with no space between us.
> 
>  **Tags:** humanstuck

“Everyone alright in here?” Roxy asks from the doorway, light washing in from the hallway and casting her form in shadow as she checks in on those of you who have taken refuge in her rather large library.

There’s a momentary pause in the hushed conversations of your group as everyone assures her that they’ll be fine for the night. Most of you (including yourself) aren’t used to being so warm-blooded and have already alchemized a sizable pile of blankets for everyone to grab from as they see fit. It’s more difficult to _find_ said pile of blankets in the dark than you’re accustomed to, and you had tripped over a few mattresses and people on your way there and back, but you had managed to make your way back to the mattress in the corner that you and Kankri were sharing without hurting anyone. Aside from the blankets, Roxy and Rose had already brought in a few boxes of water, so there wasn’t really anything else you or your other newly-human companions needed, which everyone lets her know.

“Alright then, goodnight everyone~” she chirps, waving before closing the door all but a crack and turning the hallway light off as she leaves, leaving only the light of the ablution blo- _bathroom_ on to shine dimly beneath the library door.

Hushed conversations pick back up a moment after she leaves, few words distinguishable amongst the soft whispers, but none loud enough to really bother you. Your hearing isn’t nearly as sensitive as it was before, something, you find, that you’ll have to get used to when Kankri mutters something beside you. You glance down at him, leaning down on your arm to hear him better.

“Vwhat vwas that, babe?” you ask, wincing at how much more difficult it is to speak with the new shape of your mouth. If anything, it’s made your problem with v’s and w’s even worse. You sound stupid, you think, but you notice the shadow of a smile on Kankri’s lips, so maybe you don’t mind too much with him.

Instead of answering you verbally, he pats the space empty space beside him and looks up at you. There’s no moon in the sky outside of the floor-to-ceiling windows, but the sky is bright with dusty stars and deep colors and you can see the faint sheen of light reflected in his dark eyes. It’s a bit eerie, but in the hauntingly beautiful kind of way that you’re still getting used to with the sight of dark irises on bizarre human white sclera, like a strange limbo between the afterlife and the world of the living. Really, it’s what you would call this strange sort of second chance.

You smile softly down at him, spreading out the two extra blankets you had grabbed, before laying down beside him, holding the blanket up between the two of you. Without a word, he fills the space between the two of you, his forehead tucked against your collar and his arm comfortably around your waist as you lower the blanket around you, pulling him flush against you with your arm around him snugly. His shoulders rise and fall with a soft sigh and you smile into his hair. He smells different, but he’s still distinctly Kankri, which is enough to lull you into a comfortable daze in very little time as you lay comfortably with him in your arms, the sky a strange ocean of new stars and galaxies above you. Even in a strange, entirely new world, you feel safe in the darkness of this library with your matesprit’s steady breathing nearly blending in with the quiet voices throughout the room.

“You’re so warm,” you hear him whisper against your chest, his arm around your waist growing tighter for a moment, “and you smell so different, and you look so different, but,” he shifts, tilting his head to look up at you and you shift to meet his gaze in the dark, “you still feel like you.”

He’s smiling softly up at you and something in his expression, some sort of unspoken happiness or other feeling, makes your heart flip in your chest, pulling tightly on your ribs and eliciting your own smile. You close the space between the two of you with a kiss, all sharp teeth now dull and flat, but you find that the two of you still kiss the same, and it’s perfect.


	14. Late Pick-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt:** Things you said over the phone
> 
>  **Tags:** humanstuck

The dark outline of your hotel room’s furniture is disorienting to you when you first open your eyes from a dream now faded from memory. Hit with a brief wave of confusion over your temporary lodgings, it takes you a moment to register the light seeping out from phone, screen-down and buzzing obnoxiously on the glass top of the bedside table. You reach for it with sluggish, clumsy movements, answering without checking the caller ID to avoid blinding yourself with the light.

“Hnn- H-hello?” you greet slowly, rolling over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling.

 _“[Cronus?]”_ asks Kankri’s voice on the other line and you’re suddenly a bit more awake than before. You haven’t heard his voice in a week. _“[I- I didn’t wake you did I?]”_

“Well, kinda,” you answer honestly, smiling softly to yourself, “but no worries, babe. Timezones are pretty weird this far apart.” Really, your body is still protesting the new, strange sleep schedule you’re putting it through despite forcing yourself to follow a rigorous schedule to stay awake during meetings.

 _“[I-I’m sorry. It must have slipped my mind for a moment. Sh-should I let you get back to sleep?]”_ He sounds reluctant, and even with an ocean between the two of you, you can see his pensive frown on the other end of the call.

“No no no, Kanni, it’s really alright. It’s hard to sleep as well without you around, anyways, so maybe hearing your beautiful voice will help?” you offer, trying to smooth things over for him. You wish that you could draw him into a hug to soothe away his worries that way, but you still have a few days on this trip if this deal keeps dragging on, so you’ll have to put your wishes on hold for now.

 _“[Cronus],”_ he sighs at your compliment, leaving you to grin at yourself in the dark of your hotel room. You’re about to follow it up with more affectionate words when he speaks again, slowly at first, the way he does when he’s a bit embarrassed. _“[It’s the same for me . . . sleeping . . . it’s not the same without you.]”_ Your breath stills for a moment, leaving your heartbeat loud enough in your ear to drown out the white noise following his words on the receiver.

“Kanni . . .”

_“[I miss you.]”_

“I miss you, too, love. I’ll be home soon, and we can sleep all day together.”

He scoffs, and probably rolls his eyes, but you can hear the small smile in his voice when he responds. _“[I don’t think I’d mind that.]”_


	15. Things You Said Too Quietly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt on tumblr, from a little prompt list. The title is the prompt.
> 
>  **Tags:** humanstuck

“What were you _thinking_ , Kankri!?!”

“I was _thinking_ ,” he seethes, eyes boring into you with his anger, “that I am perfectly capable of walking a mile in the evening on my own.  I’m an adult, Cronus.”

He’s completely missing the point, making this out like you’re trying to tell him what he can or can’t do, like he normally does when this comes up, and it infuriates you.  You can never be concerned for his safety or health without him feeling patronized and you can’t understand it, and it drives you up the wall.  Why can’t he just see that you’re worried for him and leave it at that?

“There’s been _three muggings and a kidnapping in the last three months!_ ” you remind him, your voice rising above your normal volume in your frustration.  You normally try to control yourself, you do, but he could have gotten hurt … “You should have called me to pick you up!”

“I _said_ ,” he practically snarls, “I was _fine_ on my _own_ , and if you want to continue to belittle my capabilities, I don’t have to stay here tonight, Cronus.”

His eyes burn like fire and you want to fight back, to make him see that he’s wrong and that he needs to stop endangering himself for the sake of independence, but  you can’t risk it with that threat.  You know he’s not bluffing, and after this argument, he would refuse a ride back and walk home a mile in the dark just to spite you … and then something really could happen to him and you’d hate yourself forever.  Your anger leaves you all at once like a deflating balloon and you slouch in front of him, defeated.

“Please stay, Kanni,” you ask, swallowing the apology sitting on your tongue.  You shouldn’t apologize, not this time.  “I’ll drive you back if you wanna go home, but please … I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

You can feel his anger swell, but when you look back to him, preparing yourself for another scathing remark, he catches your eyes, and you’re not sure what he sees, because his expression suddenly falls and he turns away from you sharply.  You’re not sure what to make of that, but instead of announcing intent to leave, he makes his way to your recliner and flops down, grabbing his book from the side-table and opening it up.

He’s still mad, but at least he’s staying.  You feel entirely deflated and defeated, but at least you can know that he’ll be safe for the night.  You sigh heavily and resign yourself to making dinner to give him some space.  As you leave to the kitchen, you hear him mutter something from his spot on the recliner.  You almost ask him what that was, when your brain re-processes what you caught of his too-quiet voice.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know if an apology counts if you weren’t meant to hear it, but you don’t think so.  It’s better than nothing, you suppose, as you set to work on making dinner without another word.


	16. Stardust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going through my writing folder and I've found a few things written for my moirail that I submitted to him, but just never got around to posting. I quite like this one, though.

Cronus is cool against your back, his arms resting comfortably against your stomach and holding the blanket against you.  Despite the difference in your body temperatures, he’s still much warmer than the strange earth-night air and you can’t help but to relax back into the relative warmth and safety of his embrace. 

He’s been muttering to himself in-between periods of drawing your attention to a cluster of stars and explaining to you what constellation they represent.  Most of them are Beforan constellations that you remember from your wriggler days, but quite a few of them are parts of a sky unknown to you.  You suspect he’s learned them from one of the Lalonde humans, as he seems quite proud in sharing his information, even when he seems a bit unsure of himself as he traces imaginary lines in front of your vision.

“And, uh, if I’m right (which I _think_ I am),” he says softly in your ear after a hushed debate with himself.  He lifts one arm from your stomach to point to the sky where he traces a horizontal fork along five or so stars. “ _That’s_ yours right there, babe – Cancer.  Doesn’t look like much I know, but it’s supposed to be a crab or something?  Took me a while to find it, though.” 

He laughs and you smile at the sound, glancing between the stars and the hand pointing them out.  Slowly, you reach up to take his hand, kissing his fingers softly before pulling the arm back around you and leaning into him.  You’re not the biggest for actually star-gazing, but right now, nestled between a warm blanket and Cronus and sitting beneath the shared stardust of different memories, you can’t quite think of anywhere else in the wide universe that you’d rather be.


	17. Unnoticed Intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another old drabble.

It’s been quite some time since you sat down to play, and you can feel an ache growing in your spine.  You’re far more aware of the texture of the tree trunk you are sitting against, and your fingers have long since grown too sore to continue playing.  Your guitar sits propped against you anyways, quiet now after hours of gentle music flowing from its form.  Against your side, warm and snug on your arm is one Kankri Vantas, his eyes shut calmly to the waking world, the pace of his breathing slow and rhythmic against your sleeve.

You tell yourself that you can sit through the growing discomfort for a bit longer, as to move now, would be a heinous crime in your eyes.  Although your arm is faintly growing numb, your matesprit looks far too peaceful to even think of shifting.  With how little he actually sleeps on a normal day, it makes you smile to see him so relaxed and carefree, even if it’s only for the length of a short nap.

Your fingers are feeling a bit better now, so you move just a bit to resume your playing, starting again with the song you were playing when he found you here and decided to sit and listen for a bit.  You doubt he intended to fall asleep on you, and for some reason, the fact that he did leaves you with a tender feeling in your chest.

You think that deciding to learn a lullaby was a good idea after all.


	18. Svweater Vweather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I remember writing this one at the beginning of winter when it got gross and cold.

_‘You’vwe gotta be kidding me,_ ’ Cronus thinks to himself as he scrutinizes the bundle of fabric folded across his hands, the uneven stitches and clumsy color changes from one sloppy zigzagging row to the next. 

His expression, however, only registers shock as he glances up from the sloppy sweater to one that is from far more talented hands and a solid, cherry red color, and then to the face of the troll wearing that sweater – Kankri Vantas, his matesprit.

“It’s awful I know, but I, er, I couldn’t just let you go without while I try to alchemize a new jacket after all . . . and my sweater is far too small for you, so it would do no good to have you go cold because of my blunder.”  Kankri’s practically to the point of stumbling over his sentences, and he won’t look up to Cronus as he speaks, his cheeks tinting more than they should from the cool outside.  He still feels incredibly guilty for causing the irreparable tear in Cronus’s jacket, and it’s almost obvious in the way his voice lowers when bringing it up.

He quiets for just a moment, before starting again, mostly to himself, about how sorry he is and how he can ask Porrim if she has anything nicer, but that he wanted to try himself before bothering her for so much work, but Cronus loses what he’s saying halfway through, getting lost in the thought.  Hideous or not, this sweater took Kankri a lot of time and effort to work on, to work on for _him_.  He really doesn’t want to wear this, but he really doesn’t have anything else to combat the harsh cold that’s settled in, and it still looks warm. 

He starts to tug on the sweater as Kankri speaks, finding that it actually fits quite nicely.  Kankri’s glancing up at him nervously, eyes roaming the uneven patterns in distaste, but Cronus takes a hold of his chin and brings his gaze back up to him.  He kisses the corner of his lips softly, and Kankri only flushes more - this is far too much embarrassment for one evening after all.

“I lovwe it, doll.  Thank you.”  And that smile just makes it worth it.


	19. I'm not a Hipster but I can Make your Hips Stir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old drabble for my moirail, set in our AU, but oh god I really love this and it's so much trash, and therefore, so much Cronus. To clarify, in this AU, Kankri and Cronus entered into a relationship when they were younger and still growing.
> 
>  **Tags:** sexual themes

You can smell Kankri’s cooking through the door when you return home from the trip to your father’s and you can’t help but to smile;  he knows you didn’t eat thanks to your old man’s complete and utter lack of cooking skills.  Whatever it is, it smells good.

He doesn’t greet you when you enter, but you doubt he heard you over the radio’s music filtering in through the kitchen.  You can’t tell from here, but you think you may be catching faint notes in his voice as well and you grin to yourself, removing your shoes and jacket as quietly as possible to slip into the kitchen unnoticed.

His back is to you and now that you’re close enough, you can clearly hear him singing along to himself, swaying a bit to the tune as he focuses on whatever he’s got sizzling on the stove top.  You stand there for just a minute more, appreciating the pleasant atmosphere before you make yourself known.

“Honey, I’m home~” you practically sing as you slide your arms around his waist. He jumps just a bit and you hold back a small laugh.  “Miss me, babe?”

“The quiet wasn’t so bad,” he huffs with an eye roll.  However, he still turns to kiss your cheek before returning his focus to the stove.  He’s stopped humming, but he’s still swaying in your loose grasp.

“Gonna break my heart over here, doll,” you laugh, arms sliding from around his waist to rest your hands on his hips as you pick up the song instead, swaying with him as you hum along.

He sets a slightly slower rhythm as he focuses on his cooking, but you don’t mind in the least, opting instead to enjoy the moment, hands smoothing slowly up his sides and back down, tracing gentle curves and-

Wait?  What?  When did those . . .

You run your hands up his sides again and back down to confirm your suspicions, hands slowing as they glide over the exaggerated curve in your boyfriend’s hips.  He certainly didn’t have those when you started dating, as you’re positive you would have noticed sooner, so that leaves the question of when did this happen and how long have you been oblivious to this?

You’ve stopped humming now, instead, following the melody with your hands up and down soft curves as you try to pinpoint their appearance and how the hell you didn’t notice this before.  Maybe you were too distracted when presented with an opportunity to notice the change?

“C-Cronus!”  Kankri’s voice snaps you out of your daydreaming and when you glance over his shoulder, you notice a red tint to pale cheeks.  Oh.  Oops?

You grin.

“Yes, doll?”

“I’m _trying_ to finish cooking.”

“Then go ahead,” you mutter against his neck, pulling yourself against him with your hands still rubbing his hips.

He makes an annoyed (frustrated maybe?) noise and focuses his gaze on the skillet and spatula in his hands, but it’s not difficult to tell that he’s distracted.  You grin and kiss his neck softly as you begin to sway to the music again, pulling him along with you.

Needless to say, you don’t get a chance to eat until long after he’s turned the stovetop off.


	20. Just be Friends

Cronus finds, much to his own surprise, that he quite enjoys the company of the wordy, nubby-horned troll. He’s not entirely sure what everyone else’s problem with Kankri Vantas is, as he’s found that once he lets the smaller troll get whatever point he’s making out of his system, Kankri is actually quite pleasant to talk to. He’s never had anyone stick around long enough who would actually let him talk about his music and the science of the sound he’s trying to find, but it’s a pleasant change of pace when Kankri lets him talk over his strumming to explain the chords, the other troll even seeming interested enough to ask questions, earning a surprised violet flush from the seadweller.

No one’s ever listened before. He’s not sure how to deal with this.

So of course he has no problem listening to Kankri in turn, who, while he may take his positions and suggested remedies to extremes, actually has some pretty valid concerns and points. He finds that over time, though, Kankri actually grows more lenient, and Cronus has caught himself once or twice before wondering how much time Kankri had to himself to over-think issues before the two of them actually had someone to vent to.

He really appreciates this unforeseen friendship with Kankri. It feels good to have someone paying attention to him at only the price of having that attentiveness returned, and with Kankri’s choice of celibacy, Cronus finds that he doesn’t feel the need to push boundaries and flirt for a quadrant. He never thought that he would appreciate a platonic friendship, but he enjoys it more than he’s willing to admit.

It’s nice, being just friends, he thinks as Kankri sits down in front of him to listen to Cronus’ newest song. It feels perfect to just appreciate someone’s company without the pressure of any attraction towards them.

And then Kankri smiles.

Cronus misses a beat.


	21. Not Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble written about a month ago that I've just gotten around to posting.
> 
>  **Tags:** humanstuck

It’s quiet in the living room, as it should be, considering it’s four in the morning.  The muted TV casts your furniture in dim light, washing away the rich color in the wood and fabric and creating long shadows where the light is stopped in its path.  It’s cold as well, with the heater having cut off some time before, taking its humming and warmth with it to leave you alone on the couch.  You’re half-tempted to push the temperature up to force it back on, but that would require moving, and then being too hot just for the sake of some background noise to your thoughts.

Your guitar sits innocently enough propped up by the coffee table, looking lonely itself in the shadows cast by the lowlight flashing sporadically from whatever is playing on TV.  You hadn’t paid attention since you had come in here, muting the volume the moment it had come on as not to wake Kankri; you had really only wanted the light, and perhaps a visual distraction.  You were too caught up in your thoughts, though, to pay attention to something you didn’t really care about, not with something so much more important eating away at you and making sleep impossible to grasp.

It’s strange, being awake while Kankri sleeps soundly in the room.  You’re normally the first to sleep and the first to rise, so with the dark of the night pressing down on you now, you almost don’t feel like you’re really you at all, or at least, you don’t feel like you’re really awake.  Would that mean the fight had been a dream, too?  You almost wish it was so, but that wouldn’t change the worry needling through your thoughts now.

You can’t give Kankri what he needs.

You’re too brash, too thoughtless, too insensitive.  You only ever catch your mistakes when it’s too late and the damage has been done.  You know he’s more sensitive than most on some topics, that he won’t talk about them or let you know what’s wrong or why what you did upset him, and it honestly leaves you walking on eggshells after fucking up, but even with all that, you feel like you’re missing something important, something that he needs from someone in a relationship.  You can only know what not to do after you mess up and upset him, the process of learning the reasoning behind it far more difficult and uncertain.  You can only assume why some things bother him so much, the idea of discussing such uncomfortable to the both of you once things settle.

He forgives you, as he always does, which maybe you don’t deserve sometimes with how reckless you can be, but you’re still left feeling like this, disconnected in a way you can neither grasp nor begin to fix.  You want to talk to him, find out what makes him tick, but you don’t want to make it worse that way, digging for sensitive information like that.  You know he doesn’t like talking about himself, but there should be some way to make things right.

You’re glad that he’s forgiven you tonight, even if his apology over his own feelings hurt you in a way that you have no way of explaining.  All you know is that it left you with the desire to simply pull him into your arms and tell him that it’s okay.   Only, you’re not really sure if it is okay, not with you holding no clue as what to do for him.  You just want to know how to make him happy.   You don’t want to let him go, though.

When he wakes you in the morning, brows knit in worry as he leans over the arm of the couch to look down at you, your heart aches and you know you’re too far in love with him to just let go of him.  Guiltily, you hope he never finds out what you know now – you’re no good for him.


	22. I'm Not Drunk Enough for This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tags:** humanstuck

Even with no smoking allowed, you still smell the strong scent of cigarettes – faint, but still obviously clinging to the clothes and hair of those seated around you at the bar and of those who have since come and gone for their fill in booze and half-flirtatious remarks with those unfortunate enough to catch attention for the mere crime of sitting at the bar alone. It doesn’t really bother you, or at least, it wouldn’t bother you quite so much if you weren’t already feeling out of place under the too-dim lighting and surrounded by conversation that you feel both excluded from and obligated to due the surreal social atmosphere that implies you shouldn’t isolate yourself in a facility that is social in nature.

You’d probably be feeling more at ease, or at least you wouldn’t feel like something is expected of you or wouldn’t care, if you could actually drink, but your previous designated driver, one of Porrim’s friends, dropped out last minute, and, considering you don’t drink too often anyways, you took the bullet and volunteered in her place, for once attempting to hide your reluctance and irritation with the situation for Porrim’s sake. It’s her birthday after all, and she wasn’t the one to drop the ball; she deserves to have a day to herself. Scanning the dance floor of the rather small club, you think you catch sight of her for a moment, her form blocked from sight by multiple dancing bodies, but after a moment of watching, a moving light catches her carefree smile and you tell yourself that it’s a minimal sacrifice for her to have a good time with her more outgoing friends. You just wish that the lights were better for reading in here. Oh well, at least the music’s enjoyable enough.

Not one for talking to strangers, not that you really know how to in a place like this, you pass the time by scrolling through apps on your phone until you get bored with that and change over to reading articles on your browser. You’re in the middle of a semi-formal article on fashion trends from a sociological standpoint when you’re aware of someone moving to your side to lean against the bar. Looking up, you spy Porrim flashing you a lazy grin as she leans into your side. “You sure you don’t wanna join us? You know we could call a cab if you wanna drink tooo~” she offers in a sing-song voice, her pronunciation still surprisingly articulate with the flush across her cheeks.

“We’ve already brought the car,” you remind her, not one for leaving vehicles in unfamiliar places overnight, not if it can be easily avoided. “I’ll be fine, Porrim.” You’re about to tell her to stop worrying about you and enjoy her birthday, because, really, it’s not so big a deal when you can just join her in drinking once home or even at a later date. However, the song overhead has faded to a faint beat and the DJ’s voice filters over his music, drawing both of your attentions.

“Hoping the birthday girl’s been enjoying my set this evening.” From the DJ stand, the man waves over at the two of you with a grin and a nod, having had announced Porrim’s birthday earlier to the club upon her request. You had watched her and her friends occasionally stepping up onto the stage to talk to him, although you’re not entirely sure why, considering he’s been playing his own mixes all night and not any one specific song. All the same, Porrim and the others have seemed pleased with it. “This’ll be my last one for the night, my newest mix called ‘Outta my League’ or, a new alternative title I _just_ thought up, ‘Will this get me the number of the cute guy sitting by Miss Birthday?’” You jolt in your seat, eyes having fallen back to your phone but now snapping back up to catch the DJ shooting a wink in your direction before he slides his other headphone back over his ear and the volume picks back up with a new beat, his attention on his mixing board.

“He’s been asking about you, you know,” Porrim leans in with a grin, as if she thinks you would be interested. You scoff and spin in your seat to face the bar, but even through your forced scowl, your face suddenly feels like you’ve been drinking yourself. “Wanted to know if you’d be interested~”

“Hmph,” you huff, scrolling again through the article on your phone, eyes trying to find where you left off even if your mind is too occupied trying to ignore the knowing grin of your drunken best friend, not sure if you want to know what she’s said or not. Sure, he’s your type, but the last thing you need is Porrim going around trying to set you up with strangers while she’s out of sorts.

She merely laughs lightly in response, leaning her weight now into the bar at her back instead of your side, which you’re grateful for, considering you really don’t want to be pushed off of the tall stool. “Name’s Cronus, I know him some from commissions for his mom. Told him he’d have to ask you.”

“Gee, thanks,” you groan, now _really_ wishing you could have a drink. You don’t know how to deal with some guy hitting on you out of nowhere, nor do you really want to, no matter how cute he is. You had come here for Porrim, not for hooking up or whatever it was he’s looking for.

“You should at least talk to him~” she sing-songs again, nudging you. “Live a little, Kanni.” You wonder just how much she’s had to drink to have her pushing you towards some guy without first threatening and interviewing him with how irritatingly nosy she is when it comes to _your_ dating life, but you can’t exactly say you’re pleased with the change. She’s still being a busybody, even if her tone has changed.

“Uh huh.”

Porrim leaves shortly after, apparently deciding that she’s going to get nothing more than that from you on the matter, and you’re left alone at the bar again, hoping that no one had paid enough attention earlier to know that the woman who has just left your side is the birthday girl in question and that you’re the man so tactlessly called to attention by the DJ’s little announcement. You’re just settling back into your reading, successfully shaking the feeling of other patrons watching you, when your screen goes black, your battery dead. You sigh heavily, wondering how much longer Porrim will be.

* * *

 

 

“You wanted something?” you call out over the new music filtering in through the speakers, watching with only mild amusement as the DJ, Cronus, jumps, nearly dropping his headphones onto his mixing board where he’s packed it in a hard-plastic carrying case littered with stickers and various things drawn and written in lavender paint pens.

“Oh shit, uh, hi,” he offers in his surprise, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck, his t-shirt partially lifting on that side to reveal a peek of toned abs and you catch yourself, turning your eyes up to meet his in an effort to avoid staring. He’s looking off to the side, thankfully for you, a somewhat bashful smile tugging at his lips before he turns his attention to you with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t really think I would get this far. Name’s Cronus.” He offers you his hand, a gesture that feels so incredibly out of place in the loose and excitable atmosphere of the small club, but after a moment you offer your own to shake his.

“Kankri?” you know you sound uncertain, but you really don’t know what you had been expecting, or even why you decided to come talk to him in the first place, aside from your phone being dead and Porrim not voicing a desire to leave just yet.

“Kankri? Cute name.” Pale eyes, probably blue, narrow with a more comfortable grin as he seems to relax more, his hand lifting yours. “But mind if I call you sweetheart instead?” He presses his lips to the back of your fingers and you suddenly regret this entire evening, or at least, the non-alcoholic part of it.

  


  


  


  



	23. Afterparty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow so this is super duper old, like, real old, probably over a year, because I know I wrote this before The Block. I vaguely remember it not being _done_ but I have no idea what I wanted to do with it (probably smut, T-B-H), and when I read it, it read like a finished drabble. So I touched it up some where it needed, and here you are. No smut, only cuddles.
> 
>  **Tags:** humanstuck, alcohol, fluff

You almost don’t feel his weight in your lap at all, the coolness of his pants from being outside quickly fading into the heat between the two of you where his thighs press against yours.   You’d think he was hardly leaning his weight on you at all if you couldn’t feel the cushion of the couch sinking beneath your combined weight.  After so many drinks, it’s always more than a little difficult to judge what your body is feeling, particularly when it came to something as benign as the comfortable weight of your boyfriend sitting on you.  

You had been planning to get up and tidy the living room while he saw the last of the guests out and thanked them for coming, but he had made his way back inside and locked up while you were still working on your last bottle.  You had grinned at him, expressing your delight over the fun party for your birthday, wanting to let him know how much you appreciated the effort he went through at having people over for something like this.  His smile in return was tired, but relieved and just made you want to hold him, to relax into his warmth and let him take a moment to breathe.  Cuddles, in your opinion, were the very best way to unwind, and you had attempted to communicate as much when you reached out towards him, fingers curling slowly in a grabbing motion.  You caught his eye roll, but were delighted all the same when he made his way over to where you sat and let you pull him into your lap.

His arms are looped around your neck, warm and sheltering while you nuzzle his shoulder.  It’s normally the other way around, with your face buried in his hair as he hides his face against your neck.  This is nice you think, though, at least for now.  With your head so fuzzy and warm, you don’t mind taking shelter in him in the least.  Soft fingers tickle the nape of your neck as they trail into your hair and a shiver runs down your spine, your arms around his waist tightening a little as you breathe a sigh against his neck.  Kankri makes a quiet sound, something like amusement, you think, and it catches your curiosity.

“Vwhat’s up, doll?” you murmur against his neck, your old problem with articulation rolling off your lips in your intoxication. You’re normally embarrassed by this, but it’s just Kankri and you here now, and he’s never pointed it out before, unlike even your closest friends, something you’ve always been grateful for. It’s safe to just be you with him.

“Hmm? Nothing, dear.”  He seems content as he speaks, his fingers light in your hair, which is a good enough answer in of itself for you with how tingly it makes your scalp and neck feel.  You’re already losing yourself in that feeling when he asks, “Did you enjoy your birthday?”

The question catches you off guard for a moment and oh, yeah, right, that’s what you were doing less than an hour ago – your birthday party.  It’s not that it wasn’t great or was uneventful, but damn, right now, sitting all cozy beneath the most wonderful boyfriend in the world, it’s kind of hard to remember that anything else was ever a thing that happened.  You nuzzle his neck, pressing an uncoordinated kiss against his skin before nodding against him.  “ ‘Course, babe.  Was lotsa fun.”  You grin, squeezing him a bit for emphasis in your joy.  “You’re the bessst.”

He scoffs and you laugh at his expression of mild annoyance, for some reason finding humor in such simple and common exchange between the two of you.  Soft lips purse into further annoyance and it occurs to you that he might get up in leave.  You find yourself quieting at the thought, your arms readjusting their grip around his waist as you lean in to nuzzle his shoulder, this time extra affectionately, because dammit you’re really enjoying this and you don’t want him to get up juussst yet.  He huffs, but makes no move to get up, his hands resuming their gentle combing through your hair.

“And you’re drunk.”  His sigh is the only semblance of an argument you get over your statement, which you count as an outright victory on your end, and you grin wide against his neck before pulling back to show off your triumphant glee.

“Hehe, looove you, babydoll.”  You’ve mixed up two pet names into something that usually only shows when you’re drunk and you giggle at your own mistake.  He doesn’t seem to mind though, only shaking his head as his hands slip from your hair to cup your jaw. He’s not looking directly at you, but the gesture makes you still all the same, your chest filling with butterflies as he leans in and kisses you.

His lips are warm and soft and wonderful against yours and you relax into him.  He doesn’t seem to mind your uncoordinated lips, or even the taste of alcohol still heavy on you, so how can you worry about either when he has you melting beneath him?  You have no idea how long the kiss lasts, your perception of time being a fucking mess right now, but when he pulls away, you can only regard him with a dreamy expression, even as he not-so-subtly wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“I love you, too, Cronus.”  He smiles, gentle and easy, and something soft in his dark eyes leaves you feeling as if you’re the only person in the world.  Your face warms far too much to blame the alcohol, and for once, you can’t find the words to say how much you love him.  


End file.
